The Medic and His Medicine
by yoSHRIMP
Summary: ONE SHOT  Medic Irwin Wade and the girl he could have but would not have the luxury of meeting. This is about the things she would have done, the things about her he would have loved, the problems she would have helped him overcome. Enjoy!


T-5 Medic Irwin Wade

Enjoy!

* * *

There is a girl Irwin Wade did not get to know. And when breath puffed into his lungs with none blowing outwards to follow, the girl became someone he never would get to know.

Her name was one among the many he heard rattle between his ribs before he died except that hers, he could not pronounce. He heard his mother, his best friend, his neighbor, his pre-school teacher, his captain, even the son of a bitch father he hardly knew. He wished he could have known her. He wished he could have known who she would have helped him become. He wished he could have known their daughter or their son or both.

He never would.

But the optimism and the idealism that lead his skilled hands into medical school in the first place made him believe, for a second long enough to take up one breath, that he would.

He would spot her before she spotted him, naturally. They'd be in a library, maybe. They'd be in _Classics_, he'd be picking up a book for a friend.

"Why do I fall head over heels for every girl I see?" He would think straight after he spotted her delicate, cream colored hands- gently clasping a novel between her slender fingers. He would later remember these hands to be the first part of his beloved he fell in love with.

It would be only until she caught his stare and smiled that she would be different from _every girl_.

She would have deep dimples and a saccharine smile. Her eyes would be a set of round marbles, perfectly fitted for the size of one kiss and with eye lashes that were curled and elongated at the outside corners, taking you back with every downwards glance. Her hair would weigh nothing, her curls would move in air as they would in water. But there would be nothing better, and Irwin Wade would agree, than what one touch of her skin could do, better yet an embrace or a kiss.

She would find his compassion for life, his humble way of holding her, and his decoration in the war lovable and worth protecting. She would find that her timidity with men and her awkwardness when it came to tip toeing would pose as feeble opponents against her will to love Wade. She would find herself wanting to hold and nurture him and once she'd let herself, she would smile and coo at the moments behind closed doors and unplugged radios where Wade would feel like a puppy in her arms. She would provide him with a safety his helmet could not compete with. She would make those nights easier, the nights where his helmet would turn against him and drag him back down to the mess he almost did not survive.

He would worry sometimes if he loved her enough and she reminded him of his mother in this way. She would wonder if she loved him too much, and he reminded her of no man in this way.

He would protect her in his own manner, with an arm around her waist through the dark and a fist he knew he could handle against any villain that dared hurt her. But he never would use his fist. She would always be grateful for this and a warm touch of her forehead against his would never feel like enough.

Of course they would fight, about small things neither of them would have any control over. But in time they would learn to tackle these things, as they had with the big things.

With Wade's rickety pastime and his beloved's rare but occurring tremor against the change he was fighting for, a life together would seem risky and thorny. But their unadulterated and totally boundless love for one another would stand as solid soil for Wade's career and his beloved's fertility to flourish on.

He would love their children and their love for him would give him the unfathomable luxury of feeling guiltless for his behavior towards the parent he found himself grudge against at moments. The lives he'd save at the hospital would also make up for those that he took on the battlefields.

And through all this, the warm touch of his beloved's hand on the back of his neck would never leave him. Till the day he died, she would never leave him. He would take up his last breath thanking her.

"_Tell us what to do, Wade," _

He would take up his last breath thanking her.

His beloved with a name he could not pronounce.

* * *

Hope you liked it, sorry for the fluff at the end but eh, what are you going to do with a one shot?


End file.
